


I Know Places

by ImTheWolfOfND



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Druid Stiles Stilinski, F/F, F/M, M/M, Minor Character Death, No Sex, Werewolf Jackson Whittemore, but not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-03 02:19:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4082938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImTheWolfOfND/pseuds/ImTheWolfOfND
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles Stilinski was six years old, both his parents died. He was thrown into foster homes for the next ten years of his life, until Agent Rafael McCall found him. He was adopted by the McCall family and thrown into the crazy lives of the residents of Beacon Hills. He thinks the town is normal enough at first; sure Scott keeps disappearing every month on the full moon, every time he meets someone knew, he feels like he's met them before, and the Hale family invites him over a little too much for his taste, but that's all normal...right? Whatever. All he knows is that Derek Hale is extremely hot, and every time his friends seem to be in danger, he gets this horrible tingling sensation all over his body. </p>
<p>Maybe life in Beacon Hills is a little stranger than he thought. But every town has secrets. This one just seems to have a lot more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

Stiles watched out the passenger’s side window as Agent McCall drove him through the small town of Beacon Hills. Mr. McCall was telling him about what a great community it was. Stiles was kind of listening, but not really. He was too busy thinking, dreading the introductions and explanations. He didn’t think he could handle anyone asking him about…that…yet. 

Agent McCall had found Stiles outside of a Burger King, digging through the dumpster. He had just run away from his latest foster home, the Callahan’s, and the police weren’t even looking for him yet. He was hungry, starving actually, because the Callahan’s had forgotten about him, as usual. He was digging for some scraps, extremely skinny and sickly pale. Agent McCall found him passed out against the dumpster. Stiles still didn’t remember what had happened, how he had passed out, or why. Next thing he knew, he was in the hospital, and Agent McCall and Melissa McCall were telling him he was being adopted. He was sixteen, only now getting adopted. He’d been in the system since he was eight and his mom and dad had died. His mom had died from a type of dementia, his father from a car crash the day after. 

“Stiles?” Mr. McCall said. Stiles picked his head up from the window and glanced around. They had stopped outside a nice little house in a small-ish neighborhood. “This is the house. Scott won’t be home for around a half an hour and I’m going to have to get going soon, but Melissa took the day off and will show you to your room. She made some food, also, if you’re hungry, and we got you some clothes. A lot of them are ones Scott grew out of, but we can get you something else, if you-“

“That’ll be good, sir,” Stiles nodded, smiling faintly at him. “Thank you. Did you happen to get…my prescription for me?”

Agent McCall nodded. “You can ask Melissa for it when you need it. Also, don’t call me ‘sir.’ I’d love it if you’d call me dad eventually, but for right now, how about you call me Rafael?”  
Stiles nodded. “Sounds good.” 

Rafael smiled and nodded. “Go on in. I’ll grab your stuff.”

Stiles swallowed anxiously and gave Rafael a hesitant smile. He got out of the car and went up to the house. With a shaking hand, he turned the doorknob and walked in. He spotted a welcome mat with some shoes on it and toed his shoes off, scratching anxiously at his wrist. An extremely pretty woman with almost frizzy hair popped her head in the room.

“Stiles! Hi!” Melissa smiled brightly. She looked down at his socked feet and back up at him. “You have extremely nice manners and I appreciate that, but you don’t have to do that. If you feel more comfortable doing that, though, I will let you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded. 

Melissa laughed. “Sweetheart, just call me Melissa,” she said gently. He nodded, smiling faintly. “Well, I made tacos. Those are Scott’s favorites, but pretty much everyone I’ve met likes them, and I didn’t know what you like. I hope that will be okay.”

“It will, definitely,” he smiled reassuringly. 

She smiled. “Great. Scott had a study group tonight, so he’ll be back soon. I’ll show you to your room.” She started walking up the stairs and Stiles followed, looking around the house. There were baby pictures of who he could only assume was Scott, along with wedding pictures and pictures of Melissa with some woman he didn’t know. 

Melissa led him to a room at the end of the hall and opened the door, smiling. 

“It’s kind of a small room, but we can’t afford much. I hope you understand,” she sighed and led him into the room. He moved slowly in and looked around. There was a simple bed with sheets and what looked like a homemade quilt. In the corner next to his closet there was a desk with a laptop and lamp on it. He had a dresser and an actual beanbag chair. He just stood there for a long time. 

“Again, I know it’s not much, but it’s the best we could-“

Stiles turned and enveloped her in a hug. “Th-Thank you. So much,” he whispered, tears in his eyes. 

She was stunned and didn’t react for a moment before hesitantly putting her arms around him. “Of course, sweetie, of course,” she whispered back, rubbing up and down his spine. 

He pulled away and she wiped under his eyes for him. “Someday you’re gonna have to tell me what happened to you. Not now, of course, but…some other time. Okay?”

He nodded. “Some other time.”

She smiled softly. Rafael walked in with Stiles’ one suitcase filled with all his belongings. Rafael handed it to Stiles. “Put it wherever you’d like. This is your room now.”

Stiles nodded. “Could I…?” He motioned to the room. Melissa nodded quickly and started pulling Rafael out. 

“When you’re done, just come on out. Supper’s about ready,” Melissa smiled kindly and shut the door behind her, leaving Stiles alone in the room. 

Stiles put his suitcase on the bed and unzipped it. He was still a bit overwhelmed by all the stuff that had happened to him within 72 hours. He had never had his own room before; it was pretty amazing to have one now. He even had his own laptop, which was completely insane. He still needed a cell phone, but the McCall’s had already done so much for him, he couldn’t even think to ask them for anything.

Stiles set up his stuff in his room slowly, as if he was afraid Melissa would come in and tell him ‘ha-ha, never mind, you suck.’

He pulled his scraps of clothes he had out of his bag and looked at them. One was the Callahan’s son’s shirt, which was six sizes too big. It also had the name ‘Joshie’ on the back. He shook his head and threw it in the small trash bin in the corner of his room next to the desk. He pulled out a pair of ripped jeans out and sighed. They were too big, but also the only article of clothing he had that someone had bought for him. Maybe while he lived at this house, he’d be able to get back to the size he was when he got those. He put them on the bed. His shaking hands hovered above the rest of his stuff and he glanced around. 

When he got put in a new foster home, he always left those items in his suitcase. They were too valuable to him. They were the only things he had left from his parents. He didn’t ever want them stolen.

This time however…The McCall parents seemed extremely nice, so their son wouldn’t be too horrible, he was sure. 

He reached a hand in, but paused and shook his head. He didn’t know them, at least not well enough to trust them not to touch his most important possessions.  
He zipped up the bag and shoved it under his bed. The smell of Melissa’s taco meat wafted into his room and his stomach growled. He could hear someone talking to Melissa, but not Rafael. It sounded younger, Stiles’ age, but deeper than Stiles’ own. Probably their son. 

“Stiles breathed out slowly, running a hand through his already unruly hair and only succeeding in making it messier. He sighed shakily. 

“You got this, Stilinski,” he muttered before leaving the room and heading down the stairs. He got downstairs and almost ran into someone; a tall girl with curly, dark brown hair. He stopped before he could hit her, but she jumped forward anyway, like she felt him coming. She turned, eyebrows furrowed, a frown on her face. 

“S-Sorry, I didn’t see you,” Stiles mumbled, avoiding her deep brown eyes, a blush lighting his cheeks. He heard a light laugh and looked up, confused, to see her smiling at him. Dimples, he noted. She had dimples. 

“That’s okay,” she said kindly. “You must be Melissa’s new son, huh? She couldn’t stop talking about how excited she was to have you here.” She stuck her hand out for him to shake but he flinched away, afraid she’d hit him. “Name’s Allison,” she dropped her hand and pretended she hadn’t seen him flinch, which he was extremely grateful for. “Allison Argent.”

“Stiles,” he said quietly, shyly. “Stiles Stilinski.”

She nodded, smiling, but he could’ve sworn he saw a flicker of sadness flit across her face.

“Allison, Stiles,” Melissa called. “Let’s eat.”

“After you,” Stiles mumbled. She grinned widely and walked in front of him, going to the dining room. 

When Stiles walked in, he was hit with the smell of brewed coffee and spicy tacos. Allison had gone and sat down at the table already, next to the boy he presumed was Scott. Melissa smiled and led Stiles to the spot across from Scott, which made him oddly anxious. Scott was talking to Allison, barely paying attention to Stiles, except to push a can of Coke to him. Then Scott smiled at him, but immediately went back to talking to Allison. It was obvious they were either together or both liked each other a lot. 

Melissa cleared her throat and Scott looked up immediately. He swallowed and looked at Stiles. 

“You can eat first,” he said, looking at Stiles with wide, earnest eyes. “Just grab a taco, hard or soft, whatever, and then some meat and anything else you’d like.” He paused for a moment. “I’m Scott, by the way. In case you didn’t realize that.”

Stiles smiled faintly at him. “Thanks. I’m Stiles, by the way. In case you didn’t catch on.”

Scott laughed. Stiles smiled larger, brighter. He started getting his food. He’d had tacos once, at the only birthday party he’d ever been invited to. They’d had a buffet, but Stiles barely remembered it. He knew what he liked, though. He’d filed it away under “future reference.”

When he was finished, everyone else started getting theirs. Stiles glanced around. “Where’s Rafael?” 

“Headed off to work already,” Melissa stated. Stiles nodded and took his first bite. His eyes widened. 

“Melissa, this is amazing,” he breathed after he’d swallowed. Melissa laughed.

“Unfortunately I have to tell you that the seasoning came from a box. But thank you anyway. I do what I can,” she said. He shrugged. 

“I’ve only had tacos once, so I wouldn’t know the difference,” he said as Scott’s eyes widened. 

“Dude, you can’t be serious,” Scott said, eyes practically bugging out of his face. Allison must have kicked him under the table because a strangled yelp left Scott’s mouth about five seconds later. “Sorry,” he apologized.

Stiles shook his head. “It’s fine.”

They ate in silence after that. Stiles had four tacos before he even began to feel full. He stopped after that, though. He decided that would probably be enough.

“Thank you, Melissa,” he smiled. “That really was the best meal I’ve ever had.”

She smiled back at him. “Of course, sweetheart. Here, I’ll take your plate.” She grabbed it and headed back to the kitchen.

Scott cleared his throat. “Hey, Stiles?” 

Stiles looked at him. “Yeah?”

“Uh, Allison and I, we’re going out tonight with some of our friends. Just to a movie and then the diner. We were wondering if you’d like to come with,” he said shyly. Allison smiled kindly at him.

Stiles was slightly taken aback. He had never had a “clique,” or even a “group” of friends. Hell, he had never had a friend since the third grade. He had never been able to trust anyone, too worried they’d just take what they wanted from him and leave. That’s almost what he thought when he looked across the dining table at Scott and Allison. Almost…

But there was a part of him—a larger, more trustworthy part—that thought maybe, just maybe, these ones would be different. These ones would stay. 

So Stiles swallowed hard, looking from Scott, to Allison, then back to Scott, watching the genuine eagerness, genuine kindness. He cleared his throat, wiped sweaty palms on his pants, and answered:

“Sure.”


	2. Stiles Meets the Pack

“Stiles, man, hurry up!” Scott yelled from downstairs. Stiles was changing into something better suited for going out with friends. Scott had told him to, since he was wearing really baggy jeans and a ratty old t-shirt with crazy, unknown stains littering the entire front of the shirt. 

Scott had found some more appropriate articles of clothing for him to wear. These consisted of blue jeans that actually kind of fit, a grey shirt, and a blue and grey plaid over shirt. He pulled on his shoes as Scott called for him again.

“Coming!” Stiles yelled and ran down the stairs. Scott and Allison were next to the door. Melissa came in as soon as Stiles stood next to them. 

“Okay. Stay safe,” she said. She handed Stiles a cell phone. “I put mine, Scott’s, and Rafael’s numbers in there. Allison, maybe you should put your father’s in?” She looked at her seriously. Allison nodded and took the phone. 

“My dad’s name is Chris,” Allison said, handing the phone to him. “And my number’s in there, too. In case of…anything.”

Melissa hugged Scott, sighing. “Midnight,” she said, squeezing him tightly. When she pulled away.

“Midnight,” he repeated. 

She hugged Stiles next. “If you feel uncomfortable at all, tell Scott, he’ll take you home, okay?”

He nodded. “I will.” 

She pulled away and smiled at him. “Have fun.”

“We will,” Allison grinned, grabbing Scott’s hand. Scott blushed and started out the door, Allison and Stiles following. Stiles waved to Melissa as they left.

“I have a license,” Scott said, walking down the sidewalk with Allison. Stiles walked next to them. “But mom never lets me drive her car, doesn’t trust me. So we have to walk to Lydia’s.”

“But,” Allison smiled, swinging Scott’s arm with her own, “Lydia’s house is only a few houses away, so it’s not like we have to walk six miles.”

“Yeah, but she always makes me change. Like, okay, I don’t really care what I’m wearing as long as I’m not naked,” Scott rolled his eyes. Allison giggled a bit.

They talked for a while, with Stiles staying quiet unless asked a direct question, like he had been taught in the foster homes. He still didn’t really trust them, either. He avoided most personal questions, especially ones about life in the homes or his parents. 

They got to Lydia’s house a few minutes later. There were two people outside, two boys that looked to be about Stiles’ age, standing around a few cars. 

“Hey,” Scott called to them, speeding up slightly. Allison followed. Stiles was forced to tag along behind them, shoving his hands in his pockets, chewing his bottom lip anxiously. He felt anxious, like they’d deny him, push him out of their circle. 

Scott smiled and shook hands with a tall, Ken doll-like boy who looked almost annoyed. 

“Hey, Jackson,” Scott said to him and Jackson just nodded, looking at Stiles instead. 

“Who’s the new guy?” Jackson asked gruffly.

“Uh,” Stiles stepped forward. “Stiles Stilinski. Or McCall. I honestly don’t know since I just got adopted by Scott’s parents and my last name was Stilinski so…I…just..” he trailed off, shrugging. 

Scott smiled kindly at him and looked at Jackson. “His name is Stiles.” 

Jackson raised both eyebrows. “Stiles? What the hell kind of name is Stiles?”

Stiles immediately straightened. “It’s a nickname. My mom gave it to me.”

“Your mom must’ve be-“

“Jackson!” A sharp voice came from the top of the porch stairs. Both Stiles and Jackson looked up to see a short redhead—who looked supremely pissed off—standing there with her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed. “How about you take Danny and head to the theater. Save us some seats?” 

Jackson opened his mouth to say something, but Lydia cocked her eyebrow and his mouth snapped shut. Another boy, one he could only assume was Danny, grabbed Jackson’s arm and mumbled something into Jackson’s ear, something Stiles couldn’t hear. Scott snorted and stiles turned to him, confused. 

“You could hear that?” Stiles asked. Scott’s eyes grew wide and he coughed. 

“Uh, nope,” he said. “No, Allison, she, she made a face at me.”

Stiles just kind of nodded and turned away. Danny was pushing Jackson toward a car. 

“Sorry about him,” Stiles jumped at the voice right next to him. He looked over to see the redhead right next to him, just a few inches away. She really was beautiful, curly hair spilling all over her shoulders, face glowing with youth. He wiped his sweaty hands on his pants and smiled shakily. “Sometimes he just doesn’t know when to shut up.” Her eyes were flicking all around him, taking in his full appearance. 

“I-It’s fine,” Stiles shrugged. He glanced back at the car pulling out of the driveway. Danny waved and stiles felt Lydia wave back. Stiles, on impulse, waved only once before dropping his hand. “Sometimes I don’t know when to shut up either.”

She smiled and nodded. “Touche.” She slowly stuck her hand out. “Lydia Martin.”

“Stiles Stilinski,” he took her hand. She frowned as soon as he touched her and she quickly let go. Before he could ask if anything was wrong, Lydia cleared her throat and straightened her back, concerned expression gone. 

“So you’re the new McCall boy, then?” Lydia asked, one eyebrow cocked. 

“Lydi-“ Scott started. 

“Yeah,” Stiles straightened his back. “I am.”

She nodded, studying him for a minute, before a smile split her face. 

“Oh, you are going to be fun to play with,” she said, eyes bright. 

Stiles laughed. “Glad to be a toy to those in need.”

Lydia winked. “You know it,” she murmured. She walked to the driver’s seat and got in. “Stiles Stilinski gets to ride shotgun so you two can have some privacy.”

Allison rolled her eyes, but they both blushed and got in the back eagerly. Stiles got in the passenger’s side, awkwardly sitting there, hands in his lap while Lydia fixed her makeup. 

“So, Stiles,” Lydia smiled predatorily, looking over at him. “You like movies?”

He shrugged, scratching his neck anxiously. “I guess…” 

“You have money?” Lydia asked, seemingly innocent. Stiles bit his bottom lip. He didn’t have money.

Scott poked his head in between the two and smiled, handing Stiles a twenty. 

“Should buy you a ticket and a drink. Someone can share popcorn with you,” Scott shrugged and slipped back into the backseat. 

Stiles smiled and showed Lydia the twenty. “Yeah, I have money.”

Lydia rolled her eyes and drove out of her driveway, down the road. They sat in silence for a minute before Lydia cleared her throat and flipped her hair out of her face. “So, Stiles,” Lydia drawled, tapping her perfectly manicured nails against the steering wheel.

“Yes, Lydia,” he mocked, a playful smirk on his lips. 

She barely glanced at him before rolling her eyes. She threw a pen at him and muttered, “Get that look off your face.”

“Sorry,” he apologized.

She shook her head. “You’re fine,” she mumbled. 

He nodded. “What were you going to say?”

“I was going to ask if you had ever been to Beacon Hills,” Lydia replied, “but you don’t have to answer. I feel like you’re just going to be a smartass.” She eyes him and he smiled faintly, a blush on his cheeks. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Sarcasm’s my only defense. Uh, Beacon Hills?” He furrowed his eyebrows together and looked out the window. Something about that town was familiar, he just couldn’t put his finger on it. “Um…I-I don’t think so.” 

“Are you sure?” Lydia prodded. “Not even just…passing through?” 

Stiles blinked a few times. “W-Well…maybe. I don’t know. Why do you-?”

“No reason,” Lydia said, shaking her head. Stiles looked at her confused and rubbed his forehead, a small headache forming. 

Scott sat forward and looked at Stiles. “Hey,” he said, changing the subject. “We’re going to Harry Potter, because they’re playing all the movies this week, as a marathon. It’s one and two today, three and four tomorrow, so on.”

Stiles nodded. “I’ve never seen it, so that should be nice.”

Scott stared at him. “Bro.”

“Dude,” Stiles shook his head. “I haven’t lived with good people since I was eight, I couldn’t watch anything I wanted to.”

“You poor child,” Scott breathed, a hand going to Stiles’ shoulder. 

Stiles rolled his eyes and shrugged his hand off. “I came out okay.”

“Yeah, and deprived. Bet you haven’t even seen Star Wars, huh?”

“Jar Jar was a useless character who only offered comic relief and had no point in the whole grand scheme of things,” he stated. Scott looked at him confused. Stiles shrugged. “I got invited to a birthday party when I was nine.”

Scott’s eyes softened, growing wider. He looked at Stiles sadly. Stiles looked away and cleared his throat. 

“Anyway,” Stiles mumbled, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. 

Stiles hated it when people looked at him like that, like he was some wounded animal. It made him feel inferior to the person he was talking to. 

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked over. Scott was smiling at him, no pity in his dark brown eyes anymore. Instead, there was kindness. Pure, unadulterated kindness. “We have movie nights every Friday after lacrosse games. We’ll teach you a thing or two about movies. And lacrosse.” Scott winked and pulled his hand back.

Lydia parked outside of an older-looking movie theater. Jackson and Danny were already there, Jackson leaning against the car, Danny leaning against Jackson. When Lydia pulled up next to them, Danny stood up fully, a few inches away from Jackson. Lydia just rolled her eyes. 

“Took you guys long enough,” Jackson said as the four exited the car. 

“Yeah shut up,” Scott said, slamming his shoulder against Jackson’s as he walked past. Jackson glared at his back as he walked away. Stiles snorted and started following Scott, putting his hands in his pockets. Jackson shoved him back. 

“Think something’s funny, ass hole?” Jackson asked, one eyebrow raised. 

“So what if I do?” Stiles asked, standing up straighter so he was level with Jackson. 

“Boys, let’s put the rulers away. We have a nerd-a-thon to watch,” Lydia said, walking between the two. She grabbed Jackson’s hand and started pulling him into the theater.   
Stiles breathed out slowly and stared after them. Danny came up behind him and patted him on the back. He jumped at the sudden contact.

“He’ll get better,” Danny said, leading Stiles into the theater, his hand on the small of Stiles’ back. 

“Really?” Stiles asked doubtfully.

“No, actually,” Danny laughed out. “Probably not.” Stiles smiled and chuckled.

“Well, great,” Stiles rolled his eyes. 

Danny shook his head as they got into the theater. Jackson and Lydia were buying their tickets, arguing about popcorn, while Scott and Allison stood toward the side of the lobby area. 

“Jackson’s not too terrible, honestly. He just doesn’t like new people,” Danny shrugged. “I’m sure he’ll warm up to you eventually. Well, okay, as warm as Jackson can get which isn’t that warm. But…warm.”

“Malia coming?” Jackson asked anyone, moving away from the cash register. 

Scott shook his head. “Peter took her out for a father-daughter thing. I don’t know. I don’t necessarily want to know.’

“Whatever, man,” Jackson sighed. “At least he cares.”

“Probably just wants something from her,” Allison said pointedly. Jackson shrugged and grabbed his popcorn. 

“At least he cares,” Jackson repeated, looking tense.

“Peter?” Stiles asked, looking between the three people speaking. “Malia? Who are these people?”

Scott chuckled. “Malia Hale is one of our friends-“

“And we use that term very loosely,” Lydia muttered, staring at the ground, arms crossed across her chest. 

“-and Peter’s her dad,” Scott finished. 

“What does a forty-year-old want from a bunch of teenagares?” Stiles asked disgusted.

Scott laughed. Stiles could feel Danny chuckling next to him.

“Peter’s twenty-six,” Jackson said, a small smile gracing his lips. “He got a college kid pregnant and they gave Malia up. He found her a few months ago.”

“How old was he?” Stiles asked, eyes wide.

“Um…” Scott furrowed his eyebrows and looked at Lydia. 

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Thirteen,” she sighed. Stiles stared at her for a minute. 

“He was thirteen?” Stiles repeated, shaking his head.

“Yeah. They say he raped the girl,” Jackson said. ‘Sick bastard.”

Danny and Stiles were at the front of the line now. Danny paid for his ticket. Stiles was about to do the same when a curly haired blonde girl walked in front of him and paid. She grabbed the tickets and turned to look at him, snapping her gum in her mouth. She had sunglasses on and a white tank top that showed a little too much for Stiles’ taste. Her shorts were extremely short, too short. She reached a hand up and took off her sunglasses. Brown eyes met and the girl grinned. 

“You must be Stilinski,” she said, smile predatory. Stiles swallowed, anxious. Her eyes probed his and he looked down nervously. He had felt Danny tense as soon as she moved in front of them, but now he looked toward Scott to see that all of them were on edge. Even Allison, who had seemed so calm and collected earlier, had tensed, hand squeezing Scott’s tightly. 

Stiles cleared his throat and looked at the blonde, who was still looking at him like he was her next meal. 

“Yeah,” he said, staring at her. His eyes suddenly unfocused. He blinked quickly a few times and they refocused. “Uh, yes. I’m Stiles Stilinski.”

“Mm, I know exactly who you are,” she smiled at him, but it looked more like she was baring her teeth. He gulped. 

Scott stepped in front of him and glared at her warningly. “Erica.” 

“Scott,” she mocked, smirking. She crossed her arms over her chest. 

“What’re you doing here?” Scott asked, inching a bit to the left so he was obscuring Stiles from Erica’s line of vision. 

“Boy and Isaac like this crap,” she shrugged, wiping the side of her mouth, fixing her red lipstick. “Don’t you, baby?” 

A large man, with dark skin and even darker eyes, stepped up next to Erica. He glared at Scott. 

“Right,” he said, voice almost a growl. 

“Boyd here loves H.P.,” a blonde, curly-haired boy with a scarf around his neck put his arm around Stiles’ shoulder, smirking at him. 

Stiles tensed and shifted away. Stiles noticed both Danny and Jackson move forward, but Scott shook his head once. 

“Isaac, you wanna get your arm off Stiles or should I help you?” Scott asked, fingers twitching. Stiles looked at Scott anxiously as Isaac pulled him closer. 

“Nah, I think I’m good actually,” he shrugged. 

“Sorry,” Scott said and moved so he was right up against Isaac, looking into his eyes. Stiles could’ve sworn his eyes turned red for a second there. “Was I not clear enough?” Stiles felt a hand on his elbow. He gulped. “Get your hand off of him before I rip it out of it’s socket.” Scott growled and shoved Isaac. Stiles tumbled as he was pulled back, but Lydia steadied him and dragged him off to the side, next to Allison. 

“Stiles,” Allison said softly. “I’m really sorry about that.” She started bringing him out of the theater, biting her bottom lip. 

“Who are they?” Stiles asked, confused and kind of scared. 

“No one,” Allison shook her head. 

“How did she know who I was?” 

Allison tensed. “I…I think you should get used to people knowing who you are.” 

Stiles opened his mouth to say something, but Allison’s phone chimed. She pulled it out and breathed a sigh of relief. “Stay out here,” she said. “We’re going to go to Lydia’s instead and watch the movies.” Allison started into the theater and Stiles nodded. 

“Yeah, I think that’s a pretty solid idea,” Stiles grimaced. Allison smiled at him and went into the theater. 

Stiles sighed and looked down at the ground, starting to pace. He was walking toward the theater again, looking at his feet, when he felt someone run into him, making him fall hard on the ground. He looked up and opened his mouth to say something, but his mouth grew dry when he saw the boy above him. 

Golden brown eyes clashed with bright green and Stiles sat mesmerized at the boy in front of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the ending, guys, it kind of seriously sucks.   
> Thank you guys for all the love! You're my favorites and I love you!


	3. Home? Yeah, Right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! I know this is really late, and I am so sorry for that, but I promise the fourth will be out sooner than this one. I started a job today, so they may not be regular replies, but they'll be something, I guess! Haha. Anyway, thanks for reading!! Love you guys. Now onto the next chapta!

“You should really watch where you’re going, Stiles blurted out, still on the ground. The dark-haired boy was staring down at him, eyes wide and stricken. The boy wasn’t saying anything, so Stiles kept talking. “Seriously, dude, you could get hurt or something. What if you would’ve fallen instead of me? Maybe you should keep your head up, man. You could, like, accidentally shove me into traffic. What then? You’d go to jail for homicide or-or something. Why-“ 

“You ran into me,” the boy said, still staring at Stiles like he had seen a ghost.

Stiles’ mouth snapped shut and he gulped. “Wh-What?”

“You…ran into…me…” the boy repeated, slowly, like Stiles was a little kid.

Stiles nodded, blinking a few times. “Right. Well, you could’ve moved.”

“Yeah,” he said, shifting away, toward the theater. “Anyway…”

Stiles rolled his eyes and stood as the boy walked into the theater. He heard the boy’s voice through the door. 

“Hey,” the boy said, almost angrily. 

“Oh, great,” Stiles heard Jackson say sarcastically. Stiles crept toward the door and peeked in. Scott was standing in front of Allison, glaring at the curly-haired blonde boy. Jackson was holding Lydia’s hand, pressed against Danny, who was murmuring things in Jackson’s ear. Erica was really close to Lydia, fingers playing with Lydia’s hair. Boyd had moved to stand next to the dark-haired boy, who was looking at Erica and the curly-haired boy angrily. “Derek’s here to save us.”

The dark-haired boy turned his gaze to Jackson. “You want me to leave? Let your little pack be torn apart in a public place? Fine. I’ll leave.”

Scott cleared his throat. “Stop,” Scott said, moving forward. “Erica confronted Stiles, they wouldn’t leave him alone. We wouldn’t have done anything, Derek, you know that.”

Derek looked at Scott and nodded. “Boyd,” Derek looked to his side at Boyd. “Control your girlfriend. Isaac,” he moved to Isaac and said something Stiles couldn’t hear. 

The self-satisfied smirk fell off Isaac’s face and he nodded. Scott looked at Isaac confused and concerned. Isaac’s eyes flicked to Scott and he visibly paled. He nodded again and pulled back from Derek, walking to the door and shoving out of it, making Stiles stumble back. Isaac grabbed a bike and started peddling away.

“Hey!” Stiles called after him without a second thought. Isaac stopped and turned to glare at Stiles.

“What do you want?” Isaac growled out and Stiles flinched. 

“I…are you okay?” Stiles asked furrowing his eyebrows. He could see Isaac’s slight panic in his eyes and Stiles was worried, even if he didn’t really know Isaac.

Isaac paused and slammed his bike against the ground, moving quickly toward Stiles. He grabbed Stiles’ shirt and slammed him against the wall. Stiles gasped as a flash of teeth went through his mind, pain shooting through his head. He swallowed hard, blinking until he could see Isaac’s face again. 

“Leave me alone,” Isaac said warningly, but his voice cracked and his eyes were filling with tears. “Stay away from me.” Isaac let go of Stiles as the door to the theater opened. He grabbed his bike and left quickly, peddling down the street. 

Scott grabbed Stiles’ shoulder and furrowed his eyebrows together. “You good?” 

“Uh…” Stiles swallowed thickly, head now pounding. “Yeah. I’m good. Could…Could we just leave?” He kept glancing at Derek, who was still just staring at Stiles. Stiles’ head was aching, making him dizzy. 

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Scott nodded, eyes squinted in concern. “Do you…are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, Scott, I’m fine,” Stiles said, voice angry, glaring at Scott. Scott nodded and looked at Derek.

“Talk later,’ he said and grabbed Stiles’ arm, leading him to the car. Stiles took one last look at Derek before he was sitting in the backseat and Derek was out of view. Stiles relaxed into the back, tapping his fingers against his lap. Scott sat next to him, with Allison next to Scott. Jackson sat up front next to Lydia, holding her hand. 

“Is your head okay?” Allison asked Stiles, looking at him concerned. She and Scott had the same expressions on their faces and Stiles was getting angry. He had just met them. They cared way too much about him. It was pissing him off and he didn’t know why.

“My head’s fine!” Stiles snapped, hands clenching and unclenching in his lap, teeth grinding together. “Can you leave me alone?” His head was pounding hard, in his chest and his ears. 

Jackson turned and looked at Scott, who was opening his mouth to say something else. 

“Scott,” Jackson barked, making both Scott and Stiles flinch. Scott looked at Jackson. “Leave him alone.”

Scott opened his mouth.

“Stiles, you want to talk?” Jackson asked before Scott could say anything. Stiles’ eyes flicked to Jackson, who was looking at Stiles with no concern or worry, like Scott and Allison, but honesty and seriousness. He shook his head slowly, relaxing slightly. Jackson nodded and turned to Scott. “Exactly. So, Scott, leave him alone.”

Scott clamped his mouth shut and leaned back against the car seat, frowning. 

Stiles looked at Jackson gratefully and Jackson just nodded once and turned back to the front. 

“My house or yours?” Lydia asked, looking at Stiles in the rearview mirror.

“Scott’s,” Stiles said, silently protesting that it was his house. It was Scott’s. It wasn’t his. “You guys can just drop me off.”  
Lydia nodded and they drove the rest of the way in silence. Stiles kept tapping his fingers on his leg. He could feel Scott’s eyes on him for most of the ride and he got increasingly more agitated as the ride went on. 

When they got to Scott’s house, Stiles got out almost immediately.

“Thanks,” Stiles mumbled as he started walking away.

“Stiles!” Scott called. Stiles sighed and turned around.

“What?” He was annoyed, quite obviously, and he just wanted to go to bed. 

“I’ll see you later, man?” Scot said softly, looking at him earnestly, but also like he was worried he’d say no.

“Yeah,” Stiles rolled his eyes. “Later.”

He walked into the house, breathing out shakily. He took his shoes off and pulled his phone out, dialing Melissa’s number quickly. 

“Stiles? Hey, what’s up? Is something wrong?” Melissa picked up on the second ring, sounding worried. Stiles scratched at his head, a little too forcefully. 

“No, just…I’m at your—the…I’m at the house, and I was wondering where my Adderall was?” His hands were shaking. He sucked in a harsh breath. “Please.”

Melissa was quiet for a minute before saying, “Do you need me to come home?”

Stiles shook his head, letting his hand slip down to his neck and scratch anxiously at that. “No, I just need my Adderall.”

“Okay,” Melissa said slowly, obviously trying to be cautious. “Breathe, Stiles. Go into the kitchen and it’s in the very top shelf on the left side. You might need to use a chair.”

Stiles nodded and ran into the kitchen, phone still pressed against his ear. He grabbed a chair and pushed it up against the counter. 

“Stiles,” Melissa said. 

Stiles paused, shaking hand hovering over the medicines. 

“Where’s Scott?”

“He left. I wanted to be dropped off here,” Stiles’ eyes scanned the bottles. He found his Adderall and pulled it out. He was about to get down when something caught his attention. He pulled it out; an inhaler. ‘Melissa?” He asked quickly. “Does Scott have asthma?”

“He used to,” Melissa answered, not explaining further. “Where’s Scott now?” 

“Lydia’s?” Stiles said, shoving two pills in his mouth and swallowing them down as he got off the chair. 

“What—why is he not with you?” 

“Because I asked him to leave me alone.”

Melissa was silent. Stiles waited for her to say something, but nothing came for a long time. When Melissa finally did speak, it was deliberately even. 

“You should get to bed. Tomorrow, Scott is going to show you around town. 

Stiles nodded. “I’ll go to sleep.”

Melissa breathed out slowly on the other end. “Goodnight, Stiles.”

“Night,” Stiles said and hung up. He relaxed slowly against the counter. He stayed there for a minute before he stood up straight and went up the stairs. 

He walked to his room, sighing as soon as he shut his door behind him.

He set his phone down on his desk and sat down on the edge of his bed. He ran his hand down his face, looking around the room. He shook his head, snorting. 

“Yeah,” he said sarcastically. “Home.”

He curled up in the bed, in the clothes Scott had given him. He didn’t even care that they had probably given him pajamas. He just wanted to sleep.

Stiles shut this eyes and managed to fall asleep within a few minutes. 

….

Stiles was…in the woods? He was surrounded by trees. Someone was next to him. He turned his head. Scott? Scott was standing there next to him, shaking his head. 

“Man, I wanted to get a good night’s sleep before practice tomorrow,” Scott said, sighing.

Stiles’ eyebrows furrowed. This was familiar, almost like a memory. He didn’t know why, though. He could’ve sworn he’d never seen any kind of woods.

He and Scott – who looked much younger than he was now – walked through the woods. 

“Maybe…the severe asthmatic…should lead the way,” Stiles heard Scott say, but he just kept walking. He collapsed behind a fallen log, Scott following right next to him. 

Police officers and dogs were walking through the woods, obviously searching for…for something. 

“A dead body,” Stiles suddenly thought, but he didn’t know where that thought came from He suddenly got up, running through the woods. Scott yelled his name, but he kept running. He ran until he hit something and fell on his ass. 

Barking. He heard barking all around him. Bright lights kept shining in his eyes and he groaned. 

“Hey,” Stiles heard a familiar voice and his eyes snapped up. His dad. His father was standing above him, shining a flashlight in his eyes. Stiles swallowed. “Hold it! This little delinquent belongs to me.”

John reached down and pulled Stiles up, then backed away a step. 

“Tell me. Do you listen in on all my phone calls?” John asked. 

Stiles was quiet for a moment, then sighed. “Only the important ones!” He exclaimed. 

John sighed, shaking his head. Stiles hadn’t seen his father in eight years, but he still knew every feature of his face. And he knew exactly what that face meant. As an eight-year-old, it meant he was getting a serious talk when he got home that would always end in ordering pizza and watching Harry Potter and falling asleep in his dad’s lap.

“Where’s your usual partner in crime?” John asked, looking at the woods around him.

“Who, Scott?” Stiles asked. “Scott’s at home. Said he wanted to get a good night’s sleep for practice tomorrow.”

John nodded and swung the flashlight around at the trees. “Scott? You out there?” John yelled. Stiles sighed as John turned back to him. “Alright. I’ll walk you to your car, and we’re going to have a very serious talk about invasion of privacy.” His dad grabbed him by the back of the neck and started leading him away. “The rest of you, keep looking.”

John led Stiles to his car in tense silence, making Stiles more nervous than it should have. 

When they finally got to what was apparently his car, his dad let go of him, but didn’t let him get in the car just yet.

“Stiles, there’s a murderer out there,” John said, staring at Stiles. He was angry, but there was something else, something different. Concern. Worry. “You don’t just go wandering out in the woods, Stiles, especially when there’s a lunatic out there that can cut people in half.”

Stiles sighed and nodded. “Sorry, dad.”

John shook his head. “Get home and get some sleep. School starts tomorrow and you need sleep.”

Stiles nodded. He was about to get in his car when his dad grabbed him and hugged him. Stiles was enveloped in his warmth and he felt a sense of home within the arms of his dad. When he finally let go, Stiles got in the car waved once to his dad, and started up the jeep.

….

Stiles woke up screaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I'm thinking I'll get the next one up by...August tenth? How does that sound? It probably won't happen, but hey! It's a goal!  
> Anyway, thanks for reading. Get ready for more McCall pack vs. Hale pack action, since the whole Stiles/Derek FRIENDSHIP thing is gonna happen hopefully in the next chapter :) Thanks, you guys!


	4. Welcome to Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Stiles goes to school.

The weekend went by rather uneventful. Jackson, Lydia, Allison, and Danny came over a few times to watch movies, and each time, Stiles sat downstairs with them. Scott insisted on getting him educated on the few Disney movies he had missed in the last ten years. He fit in better with the group after that; they obviously felt more comfortable with him and he was getting used to them.

When Monday rolled around, his anxiety spiked. He had always hated school, especially when he was the new kid.

Melissa came in at seven on Monday morning and woke Stiles up, smiling softly at him. “Hey, it’s time for school. I gotta run, but Lydia called and said she was bringing some food over, so I’d get up if I were you.”

Stiles snorted and nodded. “I’ll get up. Thank you.”

Melissa nodded, smiling softly. “Sounds good.” She left the room. Stiles laid in bed for a few minutes. He could hear Scott walking around. He sighed as Scott came up to Stiles’ door and knocked. 

“Yeah,” Stiles called and sat up.

Scott opened the door and smiled softly. “Anything happen last night?”

Stiles shook his head, giving him a hesitant smile. “Nothing I can remember.”

Scott nodded. “Alright, well, I’ll be in the shower. Okay?” 

Stiles bobbed his head. “Set my meds out?” 

“Will do,” Scott grinned and shut the door. 

On Friday, after Stiles went to sleep, Scott had come back home to make sure Stiles was okay. At around two Saturday morning, Stiles had woken up from a dream, screaming bloody murder. Scott had run in and held him until he calmed down. Stiles had told him the dream, in a shaking, hyperventilating, broken mess, and Scott had stayed with him until he fell back asleep. The next night, the same thing had happened; the same dream, the same people. Except this time, a giant wolf-monster had attacked Scott—Stiles had been forced to watch. 

Stiles shook his head and got out of bed, throwing his covers over the mattress. He got changed and went into the other bathroom, downstairs. He ran his fingers through his hair, making the front spike up. He sighed softly at the way his hands shook. He ran back upstairs and grabbed his Adderall bottle off the floor, knocking twice as a thank you, then picked up his backpack. He heard the tell-tale knocks at the front door and ran back downstairs, opening the door before Lydia could. 

“Scott’s in the shower,” Stiles blurted in greeting, then sighed when Lydia cocked her head to the side, one perfectly shaped eyebrow raising. “Good morning.”

She grinned, patted him on the cheek, and walked past. “Morning, sunshine.”

She sat down on the stool at the island in the McCall’s kitchen. She pulled a paper bag out of her purse and shoved it at Stiles. He quirked an eyebrow at her, just holding it. 

She rolled her eyes. “Breakfast. Hashbrowns and a few donuts. Scott doesn’t get any, he’s having breakfast with Allison, which means you get me.” She winked. He rolled his eyes and opened the bag, pulling out a glazed donut and taking a bite. He breathed out slowly, a look of relief crossing his face, and nodded. He had actually been really hungry.

“Tastes good,” he said, scratching his nose. She grinned at him as he sat down in front of her. “So where’s Jackson?”

She sighed. “He went to Danny’s house last night, stayed over.”

Stiles nodded. “You seem…annoyed with that,” he said and she snorted.

“Yeah,” Lydia sighed. “They keep hanging out. They’re getting a little too close for comfort.”

Stiles’ eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

She laughed softly and shook her head. “It’s nothing. Scott almost done?”

He nodded, looking at her curiously. “Yeah, he should be out soon.”

She dipped her head once and then they were both silent. Stiles chewed the food slowly as Lydia began tapping away on her phone. She kept glancing over at him for whatever reason and it was making him almost anxious. He couldn’t help but think who she could be texting and why she kept looking at him. It was his first day of school since coming to Beacon Hills, she couldn’t really be telling everyone about him, could she? He didn’t want her to. He didn’t want people to stare at him. He and Lydia had become pretty close over the course of the weekend; she and Jackson were the only ones that didn’t look at him like he was a new specimen under the microscope. They treated him almost normally, and that made him feel okay with being in this town, despite his uneasy feelings he had been having when he first arrived. 

He heard Scott coming down the stairs, humming a catchy tune under his breath. When he got down, he grabbed a thing of hashbrowns out of the paper bag, starting in on them. Stiles finished up his food and looked up at Scott. Scott ran his fingers through his wet, floppy brown hair. He immediately trained his eyes on Stiles, who opened his mouth to say something. 

“So…how do we get to school usually?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed. Scott looked at Lydia and motioned to her, shoving his mouth full of food before responding. 

“Wyds ‘an dr’ve,” he replied around the food in his mouth. 

Lydia and Stiles both grimaced, but Stiles nodded. 

“Gotcha,” he said in response. Scott just grinned, showing off some more of the chewed up potatoes. Lydia threw a balled up napkin at him. 

“Manners, McCall,” she shook her head, flipping her hair out of her face. Scott shut his mouth and swallowed.

“Sorry, Lyds,” he said sheepishly. She rolled her eyes, then checked the time. 

“Ten minutes, boys. Pack up any last minute things then we should probably get going if Stiles wants to get to his first period class. He still needs to meet with Ms. Hale and Mrs. Morell,” Lydia looked at Stiles pointedly and he twitched. 

“Who- uh, who are they, again?” He asked almost anxiously. 

“Ms. Hale is the principal and Mrs. Morell is the school counselor,” Scott replied.

“Ms. Hale is a nice woman; a little batty, but nice,” Lydia said, examining her nails although they were flawless. “Mrs. Morell is…a character.”

“Completely insane,” Scott corrected. “Honestly, she’s the one you have to watch out for.”

Lydia cleared her throat and shot him a pointed look. He sunk back. Stiles chewed the inside of his cheek, a nervous habit he had picked up. Lydia sighed and looked back at Stiles. “She’s not that bad. She just has a lot to say and not all of it is very…conventional.”

Scott snorted and ran out of the room before Lydia could hit him. She shook her head. “She’s not that bad, Stiles, really. I had to go to her for some counseling in eighth grade after some pretty traumatizing things happened to me, and she helped, despite how completely uncooperative I was being. So, honestly, just go see her this once. She’s going to give you your class schedule and talk to you about possible extracurricular activities.”

He breathed out slowly and nodded. “Okay. That doesn’t sound too bad. What about the principal?”

“Mrs. Hale? I already told you, she-“ 

“No, no, what…what will she ask me? Stuff about the homes or-or previous school or what? Because I don’t really have any answers to anything,” he said, voice fast and anxious. Lydia shook her head, grabbing his hand that was resting on the table and squeezing it. 

“Breathe, Stiles,” Lydia said softly and relaxation suddenly washed over him. He breathed out slowly and nodded. 

“Thanks, Lydia,” he mumbled slowly, but then pulled his hands away, twitching awkwardly. 

She nodded. “Mrs. Hale’s not a witch. She’s not bad. She’s nice, a genuinely good person, and she’s the best principal this school has ever had. She won’t be too forward and if you even feel uncomfortable in the slightest, she stops and changes the subject. Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.”

Stiles scratched his neck. “Got it. Not a witch, won’t make you uncomfortable. Good to know.”

Scott came back in. “Good to go?” He asked. 

Stiles and Lydia both nodded. Scott headed toward the door. Lydia looked back at Stiles as she stood. He stood, as well, and glanced at her. She smiled encouragingly. He bit his lip and grabbed his bag, pulling it over his shoulder. 

They walked out to the car, Scott taking the back seat, Stiles passenger, and Lydia driving. Lydia began the short ride to the school, humming softly. Stiles tapped his fingers on his lap, the door, wherever his fingers traveled. It was obvious he was nervous, and Scott tried to help for a bit before giving up. Stiles watched as all the houses passed by in short flashes. He tried not to think, but proved unsuccessful. A million thoughts raced through his mind, all making him second guess whether Lydia was right; what if Mrs. Hale was a bitch? What if Ms. Morell tried to counsel him? What if everyone hated him? 

He felt the car stop and breathed out shakily. Lydia turned the car off and got out immediately, going to find Jackson. Scott hesitated, with his door halfway open. 

“You going to be okay, Stiles?” He asked. Stiles nodded.

“Of course I will. I’ve done this before, Scott,” he answered, turning slightly to give Scott a confident look, but it came out as a grimace. Scott sighed. 

“Come on,” Scott got out and opened Stiles’ door for him. “You’re going to be fine.”

Stiles stepped out, looking around nervously, hunching his shoulders in an attempt to make himself look smaller. Scott led him to the front of the school, where everyone was standing. There was a girl there that Stiles hadn’t met yet. Danny nodded at Stiles when he came up, Jackson groaned, Allison smiled softly, and the other girl just kind of stood there, staring at Stiles with quizzical eyes, examining him up and down. 

“Stiles,” Lydia said, smiling at him. “This is Malia. Malia, this is Stiles. Play nice.”

Malia smirked. “Stiles,” she said, keeping her hands shoved deep in her gray hoodie pockets. She cocked her head to the side. “Welcome to hell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo that took me a lot longer than I thought it would heheh.  
> Anyway, here is this chapter. It was kind of crappy, but I tried to make it less crappy than it would've been.  
> Malia's here! Yay!!  
> More Hale action next chapter, don't worry. That'll be fun. Talia, Cora, Laura, and Derek! Agh!!  
> Also, I don't know exactly what I'm going to do with Morell, but she will be a huge part, don't worry.  
> And here's where I self-promote:  
> Follow me on tumblr for I Know Places updates, funny anecdotes, and Supernatural things: http://dark-days-are-ahead.tumblr.com/  
> That's pretty much it. My instagram is just dark-days-ahead  
> Yeah.  
> Okay. Love ya'll. Thanks for sticking with me!!

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first chapter of I Know Places (based on the Taylor Swift song. OOooooppsss). Please comment and give me input! My summary isn't very good, so thank you for reading this anyway haha. I'll try to think of a better one, but for now, this is what you get. Chapter two is already in the making, so be prepared for immense McCall pack feels!


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